


Here To Take My Medicine

by ShipperTrash140109



Category: Dunkirk (2017)
Genre: Light Dom/sub, M/M, Rough Sex, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-04
Updated: 2019-04-04
Packaged: 2020-01-04 15:24:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18346403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShipperTrash140109/pseuds/ShipperTrash140109
Summary: Not for the first time, Alex thought that Tommy was a very lucky man.Speaking of Tommy, there he was standing in the doorway…Wait.akashameless smut between our beach boys





	Here To Take My Medicine

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Snowpiercer](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Snowpiercer/gifts).



> ruby always says how hot these three would b together and i agree so i decided to up my game and give the people what they want
> 
> this is also a thank you fic for ruby's amazing latest chapter of 'afternoon'

He can’t even remember what he’d done to lead up to this point- to lead up to him being bent like a harp and fucked through the mattress. To be quite honest, it didn’t take much to set Philippe off anymore, and Alex had grown quite accustomed to the hints, the hints that told him to be in the guest room in under five minutes already prepared and keen to be thrown around. Whether it be a nudge, a shove or even just a look in his eye, Alex always picked up on it, always wired and blood buzzing like he was high, just waiting, forever waiting for the signs.

Maybe it was because Collins was on leave from work at the moment and was spending so much more time in the house and in Philippe’s space, or maybe he was just having an off week. It didn’t matter, all Alex knew was that he was littered from head to toe with evidence- bruises from fists, fingers or palms, sometimes all, sometimes only one or two, but no matter which kind, they always covered him like someone had dipped their hand in purple paint and used Alex as their canvas. Then there were the bites, usually from when there were others in the house and Philippe had to hide his shameful little secret., at least Alex assumed it was a secret, but recently the knowing looks from Tommy made his skin crawl, made his heart climb up into his throat, the not knowing who knew drove him crazy in more ways than one. Last but not least there was the ever-present and horrendous waddle with a side order of near screams every time he sat down, all the time these hookups had been happening Alex still hadn't learnt how to sit down carefully rather than dump himself down the chair or whatever he wanted to sit on.

Philippe was a strong fucker, one of the few men Alex had encountered that truly knew how to use their hips, knew how to catch his prostate every time with a ferocity that made the brunet's eyes prickle with tears and left his lungs wrung free of air. Every snap was like a slap in the face, and Alex could only let his legs fall more and more open, craving the powerful assault to fall upon that needy little area inside him, and boy did it- every. single. time. Every time his head felt full of cotton wool and his blood roared in his ears, but he could still hear the rough groans from the older man behind him, his hisses of pleasure mixed with the heavy smack of flesh in a dizzying duet.

When this had first occurred, he’d thought for a moment that the Frenchman had perhaps hit a tough spot with Tommy, that his frustrations were out of spite or revenge, but it wasn’t long before Alex finally figured it out, figured out the patterns and those nerve-wracking knowing looks from Tommy every time they passed each other in the house.  
Philippe wasn’t fucking Alex to betray his boyfriend  
He was fucking Alex because he loved the Brit too much to even risk hurting the bugger. But Alex? No, Alex was fair game, he was fair game to smack around, fuck until he cries, choke him and edge him until he nearly blacks out, curse him out until he comes to the sound of being called a ‘desperate highlander whore.’ Alex didn’t mind, he loved it, he yearned for it, from the moment he was left used and sore until the moment he was shoved back into the room again. In his opinion, Tommy was missing out.

Alex was thrown out of thought when suddenly there was a harsh jab of electricity ripping up his back, his knees giving out and his mouth hanging open, screaming into the sheets and hand gripping the material tight enough to likely leave holes, his toes curling hard enough that his feet started to cramp, a sensation that was overridden by the abuse being piled onto his arse. Philippe found it in record time, he’d struck gold and wasn’t slowing down, he just yanked Alex back onto his knees and gave him a harsh slap on the arse for his unwarranted movement. The sting of the handprint poked black dots into his vision as he begged against the mattress, pleading for more, more pain, more pleasure, anything, he’d take anything, and Philippe would give him everything.

The great thing about Philippe is that unlike Farrier, he didn’t play games- you wanted more? He’d give you fucking more. Alex grinned, lips burning as the cuts bitten into them stretched with his smile, he couldn’t even really feel his legs anymore, and his hips, under the harsh handling of Philippe were no more than a dull ache, just more bruises to join the dark line around his waist. This man was the real deal, the definition of go big or go home- if he didn’t leave Alex in tears and covered in his own come, body marked and exhausted beyond comprehension, then it was considered an unsuccessful evening. When Alex discovered porn in his youth (not that he wasn't still young, if he wasn't a spry young adult he likely wouldn't survive Philippe, let alone enjoy it as much as he did) he never understood the women who got spanked and fucked and edged within an inch of their life, didn't understand how the camera would cut from them sobbing and begging for... something- mercy, more? Alex saw them as one in the same- to them laughing and smiling like they'd won the lottery. Now he understood, understood too well.

Speaking of in tears, Philippe hadn’t laid off his prostate, nor had he slowed his breakneck pace, each move was like being stabbed with a knife made from ecstasy in all forms of the word. He could barely breath between each bed-shaking thrust, his air ripped from him every time he was pulled hard against the dark-haired man, impaled on that unfairly perfect French cock. Not for the first time, Alex thought that Tommy was a _very lucky man_.

Speaking of Tommy, there he was standing in the doorway…

Wait.

Alex seemed to be the only one alarmed by the Brit's presence, and he started in a mad scramble to get off of the end of Philippe's cock and as far away from the house as possible before he could have the scrawny lad try and relieve Alex’s skull of its teeth. Though, these efforts were soon made worthless as a firm hand slipped around and harshly grabbed at his throat, yanking him up until he was kneeling, back pressed to the Frenchman’s chest, ass still receiving the pounding of the century as Tommy started into the room.

“I knew you bastards were up to something” he sighed, Alex going googly-eyed as he watched the youngest pull his shirt off, other clothes following suit until he placed himself onto the bed. As Alex was dropped, hands pressing into the bed either side of the grinning Tommy’s head- he can hear the two talking, but he’s much too shocked to focus on the words. He'd never taken Tommy for a man that would be interested in tag teaming another man with his partner, but Alex supposed he hadn't thought George and Peter were potheads either, and look how they turned out. If his brain wasn’t already in tatters, he’d be mind blown when all of a sudden, he’s sinking into the younger man, forehead falling to press against a bony shoulder, his shoulders shaking to hold himself up, Tommy's nails finding themselves digging into the golden skin of Alex's shoulders, using his jutting shoulder blades for a hold, adjusting, and Alex can only register that Philippe has come to a stop, giving Alex a moment to catch his breathe while Philippe waits for his actual boyfriend to be ready.

Tommy wiggles his hips carefully, angling his legs outwards until he felt comfortable, hissing as he gets used to having a man other than Philippe inside him- it doesn’t take long, Philippe was a bit bigger than Alex, and the latter couldn’t even be mad about it- not when he’s getting fucked like he has been. When Philippe finally starts moving again, Alex can't hold back the inhuman gasp that leaves his throat- it's a strangled, harsh noise borne out of not having much of a voice for the few weeks he and Philippe have been fucking. As Alex in turn moves his own hips, he can feel the back of his mind think it’s all a rather strange experience- to get fucked hard into and in turn fuck into Tommy, who’s apparently having the time of his bloody life, despite disliking Alex as much as the next person- who was currently drilling him from behind like he wanted to permanently rearrange the highlander's organs.

Alex can tell they’re watching each other, he can see it in Tommy’s eyes; Alex is no more than a buffer between Philippe’s harshness and Tommy’s fragile body, he would’ve given a shit if it weren’t for the fact that this was the most involved and needed he’d felt in a while. There, sandwiched between Philippe and Tommy, bliss filling every crevice of his being, body clinging to any vestiges of strength to keep him up until he peaks (which, by the feeling of things, won’t be long).

“Good boy, Alex” Tommy sighs from beneath him, head tipping, eyes sliding shut and back arching up against him, trying desperately to buck towards the man’s cock, forever bloody wanting more. Alex couldn’t stay irritated for long, Tommy’s words still bouncing around in his head, egging him on, even if he can’t do much moving of his own thanks to the Frenchman pulling and pushing him about by the hips. It’s a mess, but the fact that it’s his mess- _their mess_ , makes it all a bit more tolerable.

“Not gon- ah fuck” Alex whines, pressing his head into the crook of Tommy’s neck, cherishing the action as it is likely the first and last time he’ll ever be able to do it. Behind him, he can feel Philippe falling in and out of rhythm, some thrusts stronger than others, but each more erratic than the last. Usually by this point, sharp teeth would sink into Alex’s shoulder, but now the oldest man had nothing to hide, Alex finally able to hear all those sounds he’d not been able to hear before; the sharp intakes of breath, the bitten off whines, the gravelly hisses as he hits a particularly good spot that will likely leave Alex dazed and confused a moment. It was a whole new fucking world.

“Come on, Alex” Tommy begged, a hand sliding into the brunet’s hair, fingers sharply tugging the strands and all but yanking Alex over the edge of his climax, coming with a cry. His hips stutter against Tommy as he empties into the younger man, Philippe still fucking him through his orgasm until a subsequent tightness leaves him gasping out and following in Alex’s footsteps. It’s almost like dominoes, one dropping after another, and it’s when the middle man wraps a shaky hand around a neglected cock, tugging surely a few times before Tommy is gone too, covering Alex’s hand and his own stomach.

Philippe is the first to pull out, collapsing onto the mattress beside Tommy and fixing his boyfriend with a quick kiss, mumbling praise to him in soft-spoken French in that wonderful, worn voice of his. Alex winces as he too slips out, falling beside Tommy, feeling utterly boneless and so damn fulfilled that he for once had nothing to complain about.

The dream ends when Philippe looks up from where he’s eagerly trying to kiss Tommy’s lips off to say “Alex, be a dear and change the sheets, you are the maid, after all.”

Bunch of fucking romantics in this house.

**Author's Note:**

> hmu on my [tumblr](https://hardleeharlee.tumblr.com/)


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